


Glimpses into the Universe

by Judy_The_Dreamer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Found Family, Hawke (Dragon Age) Being an Asshole, Heavy Angst, Multi, Multiple Hawkes (Dragon Age), Mutual Pining, Polyamorous Relationships, Pre-Relationship, Rivalmance (Dragon Age), Sexual Frustration, Strained Friendships, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judy_The_Dreamer/pseuds/Judy_The_Dreamer
Summary: Drabbles set in my (potentially very confusing) alternate version of the Dragon Age universe.Every drabble has specific tags and pairings listed at the top.
Relationships: Alistair/Anora Mac Tir, Alistair/Female Mahariel (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Cullen Rutherford & Female Trevelyan, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Fenris/Male Hawke, Male Hawke/Isabela (Dragon Age), Nathaniel Howe/Female Mahariel, The Iron Bull/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 4





	1. Open Book

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras (established relationship)  
> Other characters: Samael Hawke -- Red Hawke (mentioned)  
> Tags: Domestic fluff, implied smut.  
> Time: Takes place after Hawke comes to Skyhold in DAI.

‘There’s one thing you need to know about Samael Hawke, Seeker,’ Varric drawled, tracing the outline of the Hawke family crest onto the milky pale skin of Cassandra’s side. Her scars became the lines along which his thoughts flowed. ‘It’s that Hawke can never allow himself to be happy.’

A quiet hiss of pleasure escaped Cassandra as his mouth pressed down against the sharp angle of her hip bone. ‘That sounds lonely. How did he ever find the strength to become the Champion?’

‘Maker knows,’ he sighed, nosing lower to find the sweetness between her thighs. ‘I may have put the pen to paper, but Hawke’s mind’s still a closed book to me. Sometimes, I get a glimpse of words on a page as I sift through our time as friends. He’s like sand, Seeker, slips right through the cracks of your clenched fists.’


	2. Even Steven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duty can make love a very complicated thing, but it does not have to be a wedge that drives you apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Alistair Theirin/Cerwynn Mahariel, Alistair Theirin/Anora Mac Tir, Cerwynn Mahariel/Nathaniel Howe.  
> Tags: Discussion of polyamorous relationships, domestic fluff.  
> Timeline: A couple years after the end of DAO.

‘I finally slept with Anora last night.’ It was perhaps not the most polite to say to your longtime lover over breakfast, but Alistair had never pretended he was smooth or good at navigating the romantic shitshow that was his life as monarch of Ferelden.

Cerwynn’s pointy ears merely twitched in interest as she sipped her elfroot tea. ‘Good for you. I had Nathaniel Howe right where I wanted him three nights ago.’

He racked his brain to remember her travel itinerary. ‘You mean, in the Deep Roads?’ Not the most outlandish location they’d ever done it in, but impressive for a first time nonetheless.

‘Once the adrenaline got his blood pumping, the broody exterior melted right off,’ Cerwynn boasted with a smug smile that Alistair was entirely too fond of seeing. ‘I imagine Anora is much the same if you treat her well.’

He cracked a grin. ‘Guess we’re even then.’

‘Even Steven,’ she agreed and continued to sip her tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title was inspired by NBC's Hannibal. That entire series is too iconic not to be referenced at every opportunity.
> 
> I enjoy a comment or some kudos. :)


	3. Scars and All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was not love at first sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fenris/Samael Hawke (red rogue Hawke)  
> tags: heavy angst, mutual pining, sort-of happy ending.  
> Timing: after the ending of DA2.

After reading Varric’s hugely popular magnum opus, Fenris would laugh at anyone who dared to present his and Samael Hawke’s first meeting as love at first sight. Such a description couldn’t be farther from the truth, although Varric had attempted to put a nice coat of sugar on top of reality.

Yes, there had been attraction. Instant and powerful. Almost enough to drive Fenris off entirely if Samael hadn’t been the pragmatic man that he was and kept his flirting at a bearable minimum. Still, Fenris had felt flustered and uncomfortable under the heat of his gaze, too used to it being a harbinger of pain, and lashed out extra hard because of it.

Bethany and Henryk hadn’t deserved his vitriol, he’d realized much later, but Samael wasn’t one to listen to a man’s regrets. When they’d parted ways that first night in Kirkwall, his disdain for Fenris’ radical stance had landed like a blow, leaving Fenris feeling like he was doomed to spend his life surrounded by people but never really connecting with them. Sure, they agreed on many things when it came to Mages, but protecting family always came first for a Hawke.

Then, for a long time, it had felt like Samael’s eyes were feverishly searching for anybody but him to admire. Isabela, Merrill, Anders, even Sebastian. Samael’s honeyed words reached all their ears at one point or the other, but they’d sounded false and forced, and his eyes invariably kept drifting towards Fenris if the elf was present. It was endearing and infuriating at the same time.

That’s when Fenris had decided that he could not let whatever was between them rest, and even though he’d managed to royally fuck that up too, they’d eventually found each other. certainly a little more damaged than they both would have liked, but Fenris wouldn’t have it any other way. Samael Hawke was his, scars and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this drabble is a reflection of my recent playthrough in which I had serious doubts if romancing Fenris was the right roleplay choice for Samael, but I kept being drawn back towards him. I guess it really was meant to be. 
> 
> I enjoy a comment or some kudos.


	4. Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mage and a Templar reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Cullen & Artanis Trevelyan. Cullen & Female Trevelyan friendship.   
> Tags: found family, introspective, strained friendships.  
> Timing: A few days after the Chantry explodes. 
> 
> Cerwynn Mahariel is my canon Warden. She's a Dalish Mage.  
> Artanis is a Knight Enchanter in service of Ferelden and a Grey Warden ally. Her siblings are Ignace (her Avvar half-brother) and Camnielle (her adopted Dalish Mage sibling). Artanis was 11 when the Kinloch disaster happened and managed to fight back demons with her strong spirit magic.

The city center smells like a plague pit and a bushfire had a party. An unbearable stench that refuses to budge even days after disaster has struck, no matter how many spells the last loyalist Mages of Kirkwall set loose upon the sad remains of the Chantry. As far as the eye could see, a thick layer of ash covers Hightown. Artanis is reminded of the soot-covered stones of Fort Drakon after the Archdemon was done roasting Denerim to cinders. 

A glance to the side tells her that the similarity hasn’t escaped Cullen either. He’s standing at parade rest, hands folded loosely around the pommel of his sword. He has removed the parts of his armour that mark him as a Templar, but Artanis can still sense the last traces of Lyrium coursing through his veins. It’s weird standing together like this, both of them freed from their respective shackles for the first time in a decade, but it’s not uncomfortable. 

Even when his sole job had been to guard Mages and he’d been torn up by fear and anger, Cullen had never scared her. She just saw the older boy who snuck her sweets from the kitchen whenever the Enchanters weren’t watching her too closely. In the Circle, he’d been the closest thing she’d had to family before Cerwynn Mahariel had marched in and adopted her straight out of the system. A few years of strained communication didn’t change the fact that he is as much her sibling as Ignace or Camnielle. Their memories simply share too many horrors to ever forget that bond.

‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ she comments eventually, gesturing to the smoldering ruins around them.

‘I wish you’d seen it in better shape,’ he replies, catching her hand and squeezing it tight.

She lets him. It’s more from a reunion than she’d come to expect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a previous iteration of this universe, Artanis and Cullen were a couple, but I stepped away from that idea. Cullen now has a different love interest you might get to see a little later.
> 
> I enjoy a comment or kudos. :)


	5. Target Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Isabela/Henryk Hawke (Blue Male Mage)  
> Tags: rivalmance, pining, unresolved sexual frustration.  
> Timing: DA2 Act 2.
> 
> Samael is my main Hawke (Red rogue), who is romancing Fenris.

Nothing got on Isabela’s nerves like a person moving past her considerable charms like they were nothing but a smattering of birdsong in the morning air, enticing but ultimately of no consequence. 

Oh sure, Henryk Hawke was the epitome of politeness, and although the Mage staff on his back was evidence of how destructive he could be, his tall and lanky frame easily gave him the air of a gentle giant. But if you asked Isabela, that sweet exterior might make him the most dangerous member of their party. She’d seen Templars and Coterie thugs alike melt into a puddle after one of those innocuous smiles of his. He was just that good. Which made it all the more infuriating that he wasn’t reacting to her in any manner she was prepared for. He offered her his coat on chilly nights, for Andraste’s sake, as if that wouldn’t defeat the entire purpose of her flashing her strong, delectable thighs at him.

So, fuelled by frustration that was more than a little sexual in nature, she’d picked up the pastime of trying to get the rise out of the man in any way she could think of. Admittedly, it hadn’t been a good plan, but at that point she’d been so desperate to get him into the same room as her and a workable flat surface that she was willing to accept the others’ teasing.

On a particularly memorable evening, she’d gone as far as throwing her daggers at him from across the dinner table until she’d created a perfect outline of his hand in the wood. Henryk hadn’t moved a muscle by the end, cool as a cucumber, but Samael flew right into a rant that could be heard in the farthest recesses of Darktown if Anders was to be believed.

Isabela had been about to snap back at him -- best friend or not, no one raised their voice at her without feeling the bite of her words or daggers -- when Henryk had oh-so-casually reached out and laid a hand on his older brother’s shoulder and said in the most serene tone imaginable: ‘This evening has been very tiring so far, I think I might have a lie down. Maybe Bela could recommend me which room to rent?’

Andraste preserve her, but it’d been the sneakiest pick-up line she’d ever heard come out of a man’s mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kudo or a comment is always appreciated.


	6. Tamassran Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: The Iron Bull/Artanis Trevelyan (Female Mage)  
> Tags: pre-relationship, curiosity, discussion of the Qun, Bull's Tal-Vashoth leanings.  
> Timing: Shortly after The Iron Bull is recruited.
> 
> Note: Artanis' face is heavily scarred as a result of what she went through at Kinloch.

There were an awful lot of Mages running around Haven. The Iron Bull had taken notice of each of them with the practiced eye of a Ben-Hassrath. Most of them had been pretty unremarkable, ex-Circle Mages that wanted nothing more than a safe place to stay, but more interesting ones could be found at the top of the organization. Who knew what really went on in the minds of the Apostate, the Altus, or even the dreaded Madame de Fer? They held enough power at their fingertips to overthrow the entire Inquisition if they desired its power, but The Iron Bull knew enough of loyalty to see it reflected in their faces as they followed Arion Adaar’s lead. If the time came, their choices would be predictable.

No, the one Mage whose motivations remained uncertain was the First Knight Enchanter of Ferelden. 

Although she’d only recently acquired the title, thanks to the Conclave, Knight Enchanter Trevelyan seemed to be all over the training grounds, giving orders to soldiers with the same ease she taught young Mages to defend themselves. If he leaned his head just a little to the side as if he were dealing with a crick in his neck, he could catch a glimpse of dark red hair lurking behind the commander’s bulk as they discussed the soldiers’ progress. A Tamassran in spirit if he’d ever seen one; her role in the Qun would have been clear-cut. 

Luckily for her, The Iron Bull had lost his love of spreading the Qun somewhere in the Seheron jungle. She had nothing to fear from his words, though she seemed determined to keep a healthy amount of space between them at all times. Hell, he’d only found out her name after Cullen had divulged the means of his recruitment. 

Artanis was a strong name for a woman that wore her sorrows for all to see: her green eyes bright and indomitable amid the lacework of scars decorating her face. Every time she hurried past him, ducking her head shyly, The Iron Bull wondered if he’d ever earn the privilege of hearing the story behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kudo or comment is appreciated!


	7. We Charge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No pairings. Arion Adaar (my canon inquisitor) POV.  
> Tags: early DAI, Artanis & Cullen's badass team-up moves.  
> Timing: Right at the start of DAI.

To be absolutely fair to Leliana, Arion Adaar hadn’t even stopped to consider the mountain path as a viable route to reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Not with the terrain being so rough, or so steep, or so high… If he was already doomed to die by this weird green magic swallowing up his hand, he’d much rather not spend his final moments falling to his death along the cliffside. No, he’d rather go out doing what he did best: beating his enemies into the dust.

So, they’d charged with the soldiers.

The situation on the battlefield proved to be as dire as Cassandra had first presented it. Soldiers were thin on the ground, retreating more than actually fighting back the rift demons. Only two people seemed to be putting up a decent fight. Pressed back to back, the Mage and the Templar unleashed a wave after wave of magic and steel on the foes that crept too close. 

As Arion paused to take this make-shift team in, a barrier of light green energy sprung up around them, burning the demons’ skin as they breached its circumference. Screeches rent through the air as demons flailed around and collapsed, but where some fell, others were already pressing in. Sweat beaded on the Mage’s brow and she spun behind the Templar’s shield to evade a blow meant to decapitate her.

Right, no time to lose.

Arion raised his own shield, ducked his horns and  _ charged _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kudo or comment is appreciated!


	8. Walk of Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Cullen/Camnielle Lavellan, The Iron Bull/Artanis Trevelyan  
> Tags: sibling dynamics, morning after  
> The 'dad' being referred to is Alistair, who is technically their adopted father through Cerwynn Mahariel, although he doesn't have that many years on them.

The sun was barely a sliver of orange on the horizon as Camnielle pulled the door to Cullen’s office closed behind her. She’d left Cullen to his morning person routine with a kiss and a promise to come back once she’d satisfied her own need for sleep, enjoying the blush of exertion that was still so fresh on his cheeks. It had been a perfect moment, so of course the Creators had to ruin it with some good old-fashioned reality, and Camnielle had simply been too distracted by thoughts of her commander not to run straight into it.

Luckily, Artanis was a whole lot softer than the brick walls they got sporadically thrown into.

The sisters stared at each other for a second in shock. Artanis’ eyes flew to the door Camnielle had just stepped out of and scrunched up her nose in disgust as she put two and two together. Camnielle gaped in disbelief at the abnormally large hickey on her younger sister’s shoulder and the tell-tale burn of rope on her bare underarms.  _ The qunari, really? _

Their eyes met each other in the half-light of morning as they, for once, spoke in perfect accord: ‘Please don’t tell dad.’


	9. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Alistair/Cerwynn Mahariel  
> Tags: Pre-Battle of Ostagar, pre-relationship, attraction.

Once the sun sank below the horizon, the crumbling ruins of Ostagar were bathed in a sea of fire as the army, the Chantry priests, the Circle and the Grey Wardens all lit their respective bonfires. Each faction for once content to leave the others to their internal politicking. 

Enjoying the brief respite, Cerwynn nestled herself into the thick bedroll that the Quartermaster had tossed her way. Her joints ached from trudging through the swamp and mud while being constantly harried by the Darkspawn. With the amount of tainted blood they’d spilled, they could have brought back one-hundred vials for the Joining Ritual, but Alistair had not given her more than three to carry back to camp. Just enough for her and the other two recruits. 

Speaking of, they appeared to have more trouble settling down for some rest than her. Jory had folded his impressive frame into a ball and rocked back and forth as he stared in the flames, while Daveth was nervously twirling a dagger in arbitrary patterns, displaying a dexterity that Cerwynn could only be jealous of. As a Dalish, she’d learned how to shoot a bow and arrow for hunting purposes, and later to cover up the existence of her magical talents, but the abilities of rogues had never come naturally to her. No, she much preferred the comforting feel of a staff in her hand.

Unbidden, her mind drifted to the very staff that Duncan had so generously gifted her with. It was the first one she could completely call her own, not like all those she’d swiped from Master Ilen’s stash when his apprentices weren’t paying enough attention. Duncan’s staff was a beauty crafted from oak and veridium, and it made the magic in her blood sing as she rained lightning down upon her foes. Wielding a staff gave a whole new meaning to battle, and her sudden increase in bloodlust might have intimidated Alistair a little if the wide-eyed looks he kept shooting her were anything to go by. Or maybe there was another reason… 

She buried her head in the bedroll to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks. If she were allowed to dream, a human would not make for such a bad mate now that she was effectively exiled from the clan. He was plenty handsome and strong, if clumsy like an overeager puppy. Just the right amount of skill with a blade to make him dangerous if she’d poke a little too hard. 

Yeah, as far as humans went, Alistair wasn’t that bad. But she’d keep that to herself. At least, until after the secretive joining and the battle, then she could hopefully free some time to explore the possibilities further.


	10. Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: established Alistair/Cerwynn Mahariel & Nathaniel Howe/ Cerwynn + future Alistair/Cerwynn/Nathaniel  
> Tags: meet cute?, flirting, King Alistair.

The first time he visited Denerim as a fully-fledged Grey Warden Nathaniel’s thoughts had been so rife with guilt and shame over his deceased father’s actions that he’d hardly cared to show his face in public. Instead, he’d hunkered down in the old Grey Warden estate under the premise of organising the contents of the vault. Not that it needed it since Cerwynn had requisitioned most of its contents during the final battle and only the most mundane or impractical of artifacts was left. Still, he dutifully listed them in a fresh ledger and stocked up on materials for the Joining ritual.

The job had been finished within the first day of their planned two-week stay, but Nathaniel kept looking for excuses not to go out with his fellow Wardens. First, he’d claimed that the building leases needed to be checked and updated. Second, that the bedrooms should be refurbished after standing empty for so long. Third, that there really was a lot of dust floating around that should be taken care of lest someone suffer from allergies or decreased lung capacity. The last excuse was definitely the weakest, but he rolled with it anyway, grabbing a mop and a bucket and scrubbing the floor until his knuckles were raw.

That’s how King Alistair found him, on his knees and cursing his own cowardly disposition. 

‘This might be very presumptuous of me,’ Alistair had said, watching him with a crooked grin that did weird things to Nathaniel’s insides. (Mostly because Cerwynn had confided in him which mischief those smiles led to, and the luscious images were burned onto the back of his brain.) ‘But I get the distinct feeling that I’m the reason you’ve turned yourself into a regular Cinderella. The only thing missing is the mean step sisters hanging around.’

‘My sister’s lovely, thank you,’ Nathaniel had shot back before he could think better for it. ‘Are you here to play the bogeyman, then?’

Alistair didn’t seem to mind his irreverent attitude, grin growing wider at the challenge. ‘Not at all. I’m not all that keen on having my subjects kneel before me, although I have to admit I wouldn’t mind seeing you do so in a  _ more comfortable _ setting.’ The way he caressed those words should be illegal, Nathaniel thought, flushing under the attention. Cerwynn had been right: he was a terrible flirt when it came to subtlety.

‘Come to the palace for dinner, Nate.’ The nickname fell easily off Alistair’s tongue, and Nathaniel got the sense that he and Cerwynn had discussed him at length during their private meetings. ‘And I’ll show you there’s no bad blood between us.’ 

He could feel his resolve crumbling at the prospect of physical intimacy. He  _ had _ missed spending the night next to Cerwynn, and if the king didn’t mind there being a third party in his extramarital bed then… Well, Nathaniel had never pretended to have been a saint. That had been Sebastian Vael’s shtick. 

‘I’ll think about it,’ he’d finally given in, feeling braver than he’d done in a week. 

‘That’s all we’re asking.’


	11. Meet-Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Dorian Pavus/Arion Adaar.  
> Tags: meet cute, attraction, interspecies attraction.

To be honest, there was a brief moment in Redcliffe’s chantry that Dorian thought he’d picked the wrong horse to back, and that moment happened exactly when he caught sight of the sturdy pair of horns adorning the Herald of Andraste’s head. A heathen Qunari. If Dorian hadn’t already seen plenty of evidence of how crazy Thedas had become, he might have run for the hills.

Luckily, the fade rifts in Redcliffe had impeccable timing and plucked all thoughts of flight straight from Dorian’s mind. For the next few minutes there was only the twirl of his staff and the burst of magic as the Herald and his party took the fight up close and personal with the demons. The monsters fell wave by wave, coating the Chantry’s floor in black sludge. 

Then, in a last bid to win, a Despair Demon flashed past their united line of offense and charged Dorian with a sorrowful cry. He hadn’t even had the time to arc his staff blade before it would be upon him. He’d flinched and gathered the last of his mana to cast a mind blast when a large blur had crashed into him, knocking him to the side, and a shield had caught the blast of ice intended for his head. 

Laying there on the ground, panting as his heart had performed a complicated step sequence inside his chest, Dorian hadn’t even seen the Despair Demon go down. He’d only felt the gentle pressure as the towering Herald carefully scooped him up with one arm and put him back on his feet. 

Arion Adaar’s voice had been as deep as the Waking Sea, shattering the image of barbarian Qunari with his genuine concern, and Dorian had been forced to create some physical distance lest he melt right into that strong chest, heart now beating erratically with an emotion very different from fear. 

Varric would later describe their ‘meet-cute’ with all kinds of flowery proverbs, but Dorian would always remember that their had been an aura of uncomplicated closeness hanging over them, and that he’d never felt safer than when he was being cradled in Arion’s arms.


	12. Knowledge Is Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: None. Morrigan POV.  
> Tags: introspective, friendship.  
> Timing: near DAO endgame.

Even with all the knowledge from Flemeth’s power, there were a gazillion things that Morrigan could neither foresee or explain in a satisfactory manner. And it wasn’t like she could ask her mother for advice after Cerwynn so thoughtfully reduced her to dragon bones and ash in the depths of the Korcari Wilds. Sometimes, she thought she could see the general shape of the future her mother had been working towards, but those moments were all too fleeting.

For example, it continued to baffle her that Flemeth had seen the need to save both junior Grey Wardens. If she’d wanted to prolong her own life, she’d surely have left Cerwynn behind to be consumed by darkness. Or, if she’d wanted the Blight to be beaten back more efficiently, Alistair would have been the more expendable one. Although Morrigan had to admit, after travelling with the both of them for the better part of a year, abandoning either Warden wouldn’t have sat well with her. She’d have missed out on either a rival or the best friend she’d ever had. 

She sighed, poking at the flames of her dying campfire while the rest of camp slept on. What a complicated mess of feelings she’d walked herself into.


	13. Diplomacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings:None. Josephine POV.  
> Tags: humour, slight crackfic vibes.  
> Timing: Sometime after receiving the reply letter from the Warden.

As the Inquisition’s chief diplomat, there was little of note that escaped Josephine’s attention. In fact, she prided herself on the thoroughness of her planning and the quickness of her improvising in sticky political situations. That did not mean she was prepared for a cloaked figure to step into her office one fine morning to declare that she was visiting her daughters and that Josephine shouldn’t bother alerting the King of Ferelden, because he’d never make it in time for a family reunion.

Only when the figure had waltzed right back out of the office, cloak flaring up to reveal the Grey Warden seal decorating the back of their armour, did Josephine realize that the Hero of Ferelden had graced the Inquisition with her presence. 

Leliana didn’t stop smirking for hours after she told her.


	14. The Madman of Ostagar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: none.   
> Tags: Outsider POV, Cousland is not a healthy man.  
> Timing: Ostagar and after.  
> Victor Cousland is not a Warden in this universe, but does travel with Cerwynn and Alistair.

Although Ostagar hadn’t been used as a military headquarters in over four centuries, its holding cells were in exceptionally good condition. The rough-hewn blocks of stone might have been softed around the edges by the slow drip of water down the walls, but they stood firm, closing in on the prisoners from all sides.

The only prisoner down in the deep dark, however, was even more of a fascinating sight than the remnants of the Tevinter Empire, great though it had once been. They called him the madman because of the state he’d arrived at the war camp in, bloodied and raging at everyone who would even dare look at him. Most of the knights had been too intimidated by the sight, cringing as the madman had roared for Howe blood to flow.

Finally, a set of brave Grey Wardens had intervened. One of their Mages had spun a charm, soothing the man’s unceasing fury. He’d been led down into the old holding cells, and was expected to remain locked away until the battles with the Darkspawn would come to an end.

But then, the impossible happened. The troops were overwhelmed, Ferelden’s most esteemed general quit the field, and two Wardens narrowly escaped the bloodbath of their orders. Army stragglers, who’d remembered the prisoner, would eventually venture down to check if he was still locked away in his cell, but when they arrived on the scene the madman of Ostagar was gone.

Victor Cousland had sworn his blade of madness to a new cause.


	15. Sweet Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Victor Cousland/Zevran Aranai.  
> Tags: pre-relationship, Victor is not okay.  
> Timing: DAO. Not that long after Zevran joins the party.

Zevran had a pouch full of poisons. Every night he emptied it out on one of the blankets Wynne patched together for the colder winter nights. One by one, he would count out the vials, hold them up the light of the fire and study the flickering reflection of the liquid within. Some he discarded out of hand, dumping their contents unceremoniously in the bushes. Others he would carefully wrap in swaths of fabric and tuck back into the pouch.

No one ever dared to ask him if there was a particular order to the poisons, or if he was simply so good that he knew a poison just by the shape and weight of its vial. Zevran wouldn’t have answered anyway. The Antivan Crow hadn’t lived this long by giving away his secrets to just anyone, despite what his dear Warden was trying to prove with her constant attempts at polite conversation. Apart from her, there was no one in the camp that he trusted more to keep his confidence.

Except for…

Maybe…

Victor Cousland’s eyes were affixed upon him from the other side of the fire, darkly assessing. Clothed in shadow, his large frame became like the indomitable warriors of Ferelden legend. Both ruthless vanquisher and stalwart protector, but always walking that thin line between sanity and madness. Berserkers were apparently prone to such unstable dispositions, but Zevran suspected the brutal deaths of his family members had more to do with his volatile mood swings. A man did not walk out of a burning castle without having come face to face with his demons, after all.

His mental disposition aside, Victor had been making uncharacteristically hesitant attempts at holding his own conversations with Zevran, instead of playing second fiddle to Cerwynn with a series of affirmative grunts. It was almost sweet how cautiously he moved closer when he wanted to talk about Zevran’s favoured weapons and poisons, or the best way to kill a man in his sleep. (Howe, always Arl Rendon Howe.) Vengeance was Victor’s constant companion, but the assassin found he did not quite mind watching the man’s back once he gave into the rage.

He was beautiful in the most macabre way, pulling the eye of friend and enemy alike. And give or take a few more battles, Zevran might start to seriously consider extending an open invitation to his bedroll. There was something to be said about being worshipped by a man like that.


	16. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dorian/Arion Adaar.  
> Timing: post-romance scene.  
> Tags: sharing a bed, fluff.

The logistics of sharing a bed with a Qunari resembled a puzzle, Dorian discovered after his first visit to the Inquisitor’s chambers. More than one innocent wyvern-stuffed pillow and mattress died in the line of duty because of it. Arion’s horns kept him from sleeping on his back unless he had a mountain of pillows to carefully maintain a diagonal angle. It wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, and Dorian did not wish Arion a permanent crick in his neck just so he could snuggle into that glorious chest.

No, being the little spoon would just have to do, although Arion was much more soup ladle than big spoon size. He easily engulfed Dorian when they slept together, giving off more body heat than a warming spell gone haywire. The temperature was convenient for the colder climate of the Frostbacks, but Dorian despaired to think what it would feel like on a hot, muggy Tevinter morning. He’d be sweating buckets, for sure.

Anyway, this wasn’t Tevinter, and Dorian couldn’t help but feel a little hesitant about even imagining the Inquisitor in his home country. It was still early days in their relationships, and Maker knows Dorian would never be able to ensure Arion got a warm welcome back home. At least, not without a ton of magic to disguise the fact that he was a horned grey giant that could eat most Magisters for breakfast. Parading him around Minrathous would be a recipe for disaster, which secretly made Dorian want to see the results all the more. Maybe Felix had been right. He did have a hankering for trouble. Bless him.


	17. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Varric/Cassandra pre-relationship  
> Timing: during the interrogation part that plays pre-Act 2.

The Seeker was circling him like a shark smelling blood in the water. Somehow, inexplicably, she’d caught on to the one part of his story that wasn’t just the truth with a solid layer of fabrication on top. No, she’d zeroed in his grandiose retelling of Bartrand’s downfall and ripped it to shreds with one simple question. There weren’t even bared teeth involved, only a calm, measured look that suddenly had him quake in his boots a little.

Varric could have handled violence, but not her scrutiny.

Up until that moment she’d seemed to him nothing more than a blunt instrument, always a hair’s breadth away from pounding the truth out of him. Now, he saw that she actually wasn’t that ill-suited for her job. In fact, she had a keen sense for detecting bullshit that he usually appreciated in his allies if not feared in his enemies. Hawke had a similar gift, though he was even less elegant in expressing his frustrations with others.

Compared to Cassandra Pentaghast, however, Samael Hawke was a sweetheart. In the end, Samael was more bark than bite when it came to his friends. Varric guessed that the Seeker would not extend him the same courtesy, although she was showing an amount of consideration for his feelings that he hadn’t expected. If she’d employed this tactic from the start of her interrogation, he might have been in real trouble.

By giving him leave to spin his version of the tale, she’d laid the power in his hands, and Varric would be damned if he didn’t use it to protect his friends.


	18. Distrust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Cullen/Camnielle Lavellan pre-relationship  
> Tags: enemies to friends?  
> Timing: Pre-closing the Breach

She was at it again. From the corner of his eye, Cullen caught the briefest flash of green robes and a hawthorn bow as Camnielle Lavellan ducked behind a storage chest. She probably did not realize her pointy ears were twitching in agitation as she watched him with distrustful eyes.

Honest to the Maker, Cullen did not know what he’d done wrong to garner that kind of attention from her. Before she’d shown up at Haven’s gates, demanding to see her sister, he’d only known her from Cerwynn and Leliana’s shared stories. They’d painted a vivid picture of a woman who preferred the vast wilderness to the comfort of a holdfast or palace, and Camnielle did remind him of a wood spirit from folktales more than anything else. The way she moved silently on the breeze still gave him a fright.

Only when her sister came over to discuss troop movements with him, did she become less ethereal. Often popping up from her ill-conceived hiding spots to insert herself physically between them. Shouldering him rudely out of the way as she tried to engage Artanis in some inane chatter about the weather or the effectiveness of bows against plate armour. (The last was always said while glancing over at him.)

She should not bother herself with giving him the shovel talk. He had no romantic intentions whatsoever towards the Mage, and the age difference when they first became friends made it awkward enough to hear that suggestion being thrown around. She has been his charge, his little sister almost. Cullen could hardly imagine her with anyone without being overcome with the urge to do some shovel talking of his own. (And if The Iron Bull’s long stares were anything to go by, he’d need to come up with a good speech before long.)

This odd inclination for antagonizing him left Cullen to wonder if he should make those sentiments more explicit. If he could ever worm himself into Camnielle’s good graces, they could perhaps collaborate on the shovel talk. The prospect of getting to know each other a little better was not displeasing to him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> My final goal is to post one of these drabbles for every day of Nanowrimo 2020. The collection may grow bigger than that, but I'm trying to keep it focused for now.
> 
> I enjoy a comment or some kudos if you have the time. :)


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